Bellyitchin'
Discussion of the Pittsburgh Pirates has dwindled on this blog in direct proportion to that team being any fun at all to watch, but tonight's game answered a nagging question: Did the club's management completely snuff out the team's genuinely solid offense by trading away its two most potent hitters? The ringing answer must be, "No, not completely!" Because here is the team scoring nine runs and still losing just as though their June roster were still intact.
Speaking of baseball of the bad-newsed variety: I want to add in a small way to Jack's omnibus Portland post by saying that at that Portland Beavers AAA game I had my closest approach to a professional foul ball ever. This one was a pop-up into the seats along the third base line late in the second game, which ended up landing about three seats to the right of where I was sitting at the time. In fact I stuck out my right hand in a not entirely graceful attempt to catch it, though the ball merely slapped off of the meaty part of my palm. (Small irrational voice inside of head: "When you were seven you used to take your baseball glove into the upper deck of Three Rivers Stadium with no hope whatsoever of catching a foul ball! Now that you are older and much closer to the field you could have finally used it! Why didn't you bring your baseball glove?!")
The ball hit the concrete near my feet and I picked it up easily enough as it rolled around down there (PGE Park being pretty well empty by this time on a worknight). I even got a smattering of applause from the people sitting in the section when I gave the ball to a kid who had also come after it. Which brings me to the true moral of this story: You should always try to become a kind and goodhearted person to make up for being bad at sports.
Speaking of baseball of the bad-newsed variety: I want to add in a small way to Jack's omnibus Portland post by saying that at that Portland Beavers AAA game I had my closest approach to a professional foul ball ever. This one was a pop-up into the seats along the third base line late in the second game, which ended up landing about three seats to the right of where I was sitting at the time. In fact I stuck out my right hand in a not entirely graceful attempt to catch it, though the ball merely slapped off of the meaty part of my palm. (Small irrational voice inside of head: "When you were seven you used to take your baseball glove into the upper deck of Three Rivers Stadium with no hope whatsoever of catching a foul ball! Now that you are older and much closer to the field you could have finally used it! Why didn't you bring your baseball glove?!")
The ball hit the concrete near my feet and I picked it up easily enough as it rolled around down there (PGE Park being pretty well empty by this time on a worknight). I even got a smattering of applause from the people sitting in the section when I gave the ball to a kid who had also come after it. Which brings me to the true moral of this story: You should always try to become a kind and goodhearted person to make up for being bad at sports.
3 Comments:
Smattering? Don't be so modest -- you got a lot of applause for that.
And kudos to Nate for it. As you guys know--Jack more than anyone--it took me way too long to realize that a couple rules of baseball are that (a) you don't jump, leap or lunge for a foul ball and (b) if a foul ball does come into your hands you give it to the nearest little kid.
In reference to what Jack knows well, Dad, you can probably also blame Junior Ortiz for not pointing to somebody and tossing the ball directly to them. That would have been best for all involved.
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